


Oops, Sorry, Wrong Picture ;)

by qvarries



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cheating, High Heels, M/M, Masturbation, Sex Toys, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 22:08:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11587155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qvarries/pseuds/qvarries
Summary: Joseph accidentally sends you the wrong image.Or does he?





	Oops, Sorry, Wrong Picture ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Not written by me, but by my lovely friend Trifoilum on discord! They wanted me to upload it for them <3

To text with Joseph is to suffer the torture of a dream you almost can reach.

Joseph had these tendencies of sending random pictures of perfectly arranged...everything. They were...what do kids said these days-- Gramworthy.

Freshly baked cookies neatly stacked in a beautiful plate; one torn in two to reveal a molten piece of chocolate. Cakes perfectly rising inside the oven. One time he even made a galaxy cake that looked like all those renderings of space; purple, blue, with sparkles of silver on top.

Then there's his family. His children meticulously dressed in pastel pink and blue. His wife perfectly composed; bottles of wine carefully framed as tasteful decoration instead of a cause of concern. His own face, smiling like he had received God’s blessing or took a -really- powerful drug. When you think about it, maybe God is a drug for him.

You would think of this as artificial, another case of carefully cultivated image if not for hints of imperfection that suggested natural carelessness in his pictures. Some of the cookies were larger than others, the handle of the oven is dusted with flour, a stray unwashed plate on the background; one of the children is kinda blurry. Mary spilled a glass of wine. It looked like Joseph’s life was THAT perfect.

Even the neighbors you know (Brian, Craig. Robert. ROBERT) can appear well put; their faces glowing like they’re having the time of their lives, even when you know it’s just an ordinary gathering. Even -you- look younger. Happier. As if suffering hasn't managed to touch you and Amanda never made you worry and your partner was at home, waiting for you to return.

It’s a beautiful torture. 

It happened about three months after you moved into Maple Bay.

 

A picture of him. The pink shirt was gone, and his muscular chest was revealed; something his polo shirt never really managed to cover. Only his pastel blue sweater was wrapped around his shoulder. His nipples were pink, and honestly—they looked rather perky. His gently tousled hair and his perfect smile gave the youth minister the appearance of utter bliss. On the background was the sunset and the sea.

The result was angelic. And yet somehow, completely alluring the way angels shouldn’t be.

Five seconds later, another message were sent. 

_‘oops sorry, wrong picture haha ;)’_  
_‘it’s a picture of our vacation last summer. The sea is really beautiful this time of day!’_  
‘it’s beautiful.’ You replied.  
_‘Glad you agree!’_  


Another picture was sent. It was a picture of chocolate and cheesecake brownies on a pink and blue school lunch boxes. As usual, it’s perfect.

_‘I meant to send you this. Am trying some new stuff! What do you think?’_  
_‘Want some?’_

Things were normal for a month or so; pictures of food, family, and friends appeared as if that mistake never happened.

You were just washing the dishes when a message came. From Joseph—you were about to meet him tomorrow. Was he going to reschedule? But no, it was a picture of him, and he was naked. And hard. Posing in his bedroom. You suddenly needed to sit down. Thank goodness Amanda had left the table.

The picture is carefully cropped so that the majority of his naked, glorious body was taking the majority of his picture. It was taken at noon and the sun did not give anything to the darkness, and you’re forced to look at his entire naked body.

This is Joseph Christiansen, the youth minister, your neighbour sending you nudes, and hot damn.

He definitely worked out. His abs looked more sculpted than the last picture and his thighs like it could crush someone’s head and they wouldn’t mind. The vague shape of the tattoo on his bicep seemingly invited you to look closer--But no. The centerpiece of this piece of art was his cock; long and hard and and a part of you realized the effort spent in arranging all this was most likely a lot. 

His cock was surrounded by the milky white, slightly pink skin of his, and a dusting of blonde treasure trail, and a part of you cannot help but admire its respectable size, its girth and length—you thought it’s probably your size, if a bit longer. You can just imagine it bobbing up and down and you swore you could see a clear glob of precum on the tip. It’s definitely precum.

His eyes looked at the lens—looked at you, and his lips coyly smiled, like he’s telling you a juicy secret. Like he’s waiting for your reaction. Like he’s waiting for you. You’re ashamed to admit it but you find yourself hard and craving for it. Even moreso than pictures of his baked goods.

Six seconds later another message was sent.  
_‘oh oops! Sorry that was for my wife!’_ Mary was probably in the bar.  
‘wow.’  
‘haha’  
‘No worries. Tomorrow ok?’  
_‘Yep! Talk to you soon’_

You’re speechless. Joseph’s dick still pointed at you, demanding your attention. Calling for worship. To kneel, to open your mouth and let it rule your mouth, ravage your throat, fill your body. To surrender. Your throat felt dry all the sudden.

The right, moral thing is to wipe the chat clear. Save Joseph the potential embarrassment; save yourself the discomfort. Tomorrow you and him can forget all of this. It’s just a simple mistake; nothing more. Somehow you did not do any of that. Until in the middle of the night, the phone dinged once. A message.

_‘Oh, by the way, do you like the picture? I’m trying a new exercise ;)’_ Joseph asked, as if he’s asking about the cake he just made.

You did not know what to respond so you just left it be.  
That night, you dreamed about Joseph.

 

Next day was awkward. Joseph keep smiling at you –invitingly, some part of you whispered— and you found yourself speechless more times than you’d like to admit. You hoped no one noticed. He gave you a box of delectable butter cookies with strawberry jam on top. It was delicious. So things were going okay, right?

But for some reason, Joseph did not message you for a while. And for some reason, neither did you. The photo remains on top of the screen. His cock is in the tip of your finger. His question remained unanswered.

_‘Oh, by the way, do you like the picture? I’m trying a new exercise ;)’_

You liked it. So far you had not done anything with the photo, but it’d be a lie to say the temptation wasn’t there. Sometimes it took everything you had to not use that photo to masturbate; to not defile your priestly neighbor with your dirty, dirty fantasy. You’re just lonely. It’s been a few lonely months and taking care of Amanda alone was harder than you thought it’d be and you’re surrounded with lots of dads and – you should have known better than this.

Tonight was one of those afternoons, as Amanda went out with friends and you were left alone in your home that had just begun to feel like home, and the silence gave up way to boredom and boredom gave up way to temptation. It threatened you. You tried to held that in bay with a movie. Something that wouldn’t give your mind any chance to wander.

You were loading Netflix when your phone rang and some part of you shouted to not look, to ignore, to watch the damned movie but you picked your phone and unlocked it and it’s Joseph’s name on the screen and your breath was hitched.

It was a picture of what seems to be Joseph and Mary’s bedroom. But as you tapped once to enlarge it; you realized a fatal mistake as Joseph’s naked body walked inside the frame, wearing nothing but a pair of high heels. A pink dildo was in his left hand; a bottle of lube on his right.

This was not a photo. This was a video.

That same part of you told you to close it, to delete it, to do ANYTHING but to look at it, but it was futile as you watched your neighbor gracefully moved closer to the camera, in front of the bed, and sat down on the floor. You blankly noted how the black satin high heels fit his feet—Mary’s, they were not.

His smile was angelic; almost docile as he slowly spread his legs apart, revealing his dick and then his asshole to you. It was carefully taken care like the rest of his body and you remembered porn stars and their video perfect bodies and you cannot believe that this youth minister, this father of five had a sinful body like that. 

Joseph was so damned loud, kissing and sucking and slurping the dildo like a popsicle in summer; desperate yet savoring it. And then he leaned on the bed and liberally spread lube to one hand and spread his legs. One hand held his hole as he started fingering himself and the hunger was too much. You opened your pants, taking out your own begging need.

You wondered why he seemed to be so natural with this but your thoughts were cut short. Fingers were slowly increased as Joseph whimpered; one, two, three, four, and then he took out his fingers and grabbed the dildo. His eyes were fixed at the camera. Fixed at you with need and lust, as he spread his legs more, opening himself more, as he slowly slided the dildo. It entered with a whimper and you let out a needy groan.

Joseph began pumping the dildo, increasing the pace as one hand reached a pink, perky nipple and pinched it. He began to moan; at first a restrained one, slowly increasing in volume until his moan was desperate; his composure long gone. You matched your own stroking with him as your eyes are fixated to Joseph and his erect, unattended cock and the pink dildo going in and out and faster and slicker and you want to took his dildo out and hold his beautiful cock and gave them –him-- the worship he deserve and then he moaned a name that was definitely not Mary.

It was your name. 

You came, shaking and groaning and breathless for a few precious seconds.

And with it, sanity and realization hit you like a truck. He was moaning your name while jerking off. While thrusting a dildo. And wearing black high heels. Guilt and something dark and depraved washed upon you and you immediately closed the video. You must not know what happened next.

You realized as you closed the video that Joseph sent another message.

_‘oh oops! This is embarrassing. Must have accidentally pressed record.’ _  
_‘That was for Mary. To give something to look forward to ;)’___

____

You groaned, yet managed to sent a simple ‘oh’ as a reply, and then Joseph quickly sent you another message.

_‘You won’t tell anyone about this right? ;)’_  
_‘our little secret here.’_

 

The movie played but it was white noise to you. Your legs are fidgeting, your body cannot calm down at all. Trying to forget the sight, your name in his voice, but they keep lingering. The hunger inside you unleashed, wanting more. Your cock demanded satisfaction, and you’re afraid to touch it again; you’re afraid of imagining. Yet you also did not want sleep; afraid of what dreams will reveal to you. 

A dream you almost can reach.

This is not right, Joseph is married, you reminded yourself. That part of you resurfaced; wondering whether if he planned this. The timing, the pictures, the escalation, the winks, the easiness, the everything. Was it all intentional? 

Do you want it to be intentional?

Breaking your thought, the phone rang once, and you immediately jumped to check it. That rational part of you futilely gave its last tug as your fingers hastily tapped the screen.

Joseph. Cold sweat broke on your back.

_‘Hey, you there?’_  
_‘Sorry about that! Let me make it up to you’_  
_‘Apology brownies? I promise it will be mouthwatering.’_  
_‘It’s VERY juicy ;)’_

You stared at the screen.


End file.
